


A Whiter Shade Of Pale

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8203225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: Darkspawn Chronicles AU: Zevran has been spared by Alistair after his failed assassination. Broken and bloody, he manages to get himself to Denerim Alienage and lands in the apartment of an unrecruited Tabris. He decides to hide in the village and make a new life for himself away from the Crows. After living in self imposed isolation after her kidnapping, Tabris finds herself reaching out and becoming friends with Zevran. When those feelings deepen, both are unsure how to be together in a world that threatens to fall apart around them. Written for a kink-meme prompt





	1. Chapter 1

**CW: Discussion of rape (not terribly graphic, but both Zevran and Tabris are survivors and this comes up from time to time)**

_Dedicated to all you folks who loved "Thieves Like Us" for reasons I'll never understand but will always be grateful for_

Tabris heard the window open, the slight creak giving the intruder away. She grabbed the blade underneath her pillow and jumped out of bed. She tackled the man against the wall and held Fang against his throat.

The intruder looked weary and unsurprised at her reaction. He said something in another language first and then, as if he remembered suddenly where he was, said in Common, "Please let me go."

The pleading in his words caught her off guard. It was if she had broken into his home and attacked him. She could make the general shape of him in the dark, her night vision not as good as some elves. He wasn't a shem and his ears were particularly pointed, only highlighted by the earrings punched through his skin. She normally would not be able to notice a tattoo's details in the dark like this, but the two long lines down his cheek were hard to miss.

"Why are you here, Crow?" Tabris asked angrily.

He laughed tiredly. "If you are to slay me, girl, do it now. Either way I will fall over soon if I do not lie down."

She frowned, noticing the dark stains on his shirt. "You are injured?"

He nodded, closing his eyes. He stumbled slightly and Tabris put her dagger down before she accidentally cut him. She helped him to her bed and laid him down. She cut open his shirt and assessed the damage. Mostly arrow wounds, though it looked like the Crow had managed to at least get the heads out. Tabris cleaned them out the best she could with water, both impressed and concerned that he did not wince as she sterilized the area. She bound it with clean bandages and found a bit of brandy hidden away for him to drink. The Crow smiled at the last offering and declined wordlessly.

"It will do little for me," he murmured, his eyes closing.

"Look," Tabris said, "I've had a really bad last couple of months, I really don't need an assassin kicking the bucket in my bed. So if you think you're dying-"

He cut her off. "No. I just need rest. Let me sleep for a little while and I will not bother you again. There is coin in my cloak. Take whatever you need."

The Crow drifted off and Tabris pulled the blanket around him before finding his discarded outwear. She found the sewn over pocket and ripped it open. She nearly cursed as forty sovereigns slipped out. She suddenly felt disgusted by the money and dropped it, the coins clinking on the floor.

Tabris looked over to see the assassin snoring, pulling the blankets around him as he curled into a little ball. Tabris grabbed the extra quilt from her closet and pushed her armchair against the wall to face her bed. She sat upright, willing herself to not allow herself to sleep.

***

Zevran woke with a pounding headache and groaned as he stirred. He paused, the sheets oddly coarse beneath his fingers. He looked around as the light trickled into the apartment through the dented blinds. He noticed the girl first. She was wrapped in an old quilt, still sitting upright even as she was obviously asleep.

He rose quietly, his wounds aching. He laid out half his money on her kitchen table. Zevran looked at how obviously uncomfortable she was and went to pick her up to carry her back to her bed. The moment his hand touched her shoulder, he knew he had made a grave mistake.

He was suddenly flung to the ground and the woman was on top of him, her dagger once again at his throat. Her other hand hovered over his wounds, threatening to press down.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "You have been good to let me hide here. I only meant to put you back where I found you."

The joke did not land. She still glared at him.

"If you let me up," he promised, "then I will leave and we never have to see each other again. Will that work for you?"

She conceded, letting him stand. He nodded his head and grabbed his things.

"You're not going to make it far in the shape you are," she said. "You have a place to go, Crow? I don't want you to leave a bloody trail back to me."

He admitted, "To be honest, I had thought your apartment deserted. I was going to find another place to lay low for a time. I'll figure it out as I go."

She sat on the edge of her bed and looked him up and down. For most women, he would make a joke about her deciding whether or not he was good looking enough to be worth the trouble. But he recognized that look. It was the same he knew from the whorehouse when he was young. She was trying to decide if she would be able to defend herself against him if he attacked. That sad math of vulnerable women as they decided if they were strong enough to risk being alone with a man.

"Crows don't have a place for you to hide? I thought you all knew a wench in every tavern and a sailor in every port?"

Zevran shook his head. "If the Crows know I am alive, they'll finish me off."

She raised her eyebrows at that. His legs grew too tired to stand and he started lowering himself to the ground. To his surprise, she helped him. He leaned his head against the wall, trying not to groan.

She asked quietly, "You're hoping to disappear then?"

He admitted, "I had not thought much past surviving the next few days. But yes, I suppose that is what I want. I cannot go home."

The girl bit her lip as she thought over his words.

Finally she said, "You can't stay here with me. People talk about a single woman living on her own as it is. I'll get you to my pa. He'll say you're from an Antivan alienage or something, I don't know. You keep your head down and your secret is safe with me, Crow."

"Zevran," he said, a smile crossing his face. "I'm not a Crow anymore."

"That first name going to get you in trouble around here?" She asked.

"No. Every third boy I knew growing up was named Zevran. It is a common enough name for Antiva."

"Okay, good. Can you stand?"

Zevran barely got himself to his feet. The woman held out her arm and he gingerly took it, leaning into her. He got a whiff of her hair, noting the strong smell of ash. She put her arm around his waist and helped him out of her building, sneaking him through the streets until they reached a tiny house nearby. They entered through the back door and she helped him into a small bedroom that had clearly not been used in some time. Zevran lay down, closing his eyes as he heard her arguing with a man. Likely her father, the accent and cadence were right for it.

He was unsure when he fell back asleep, only knowing he had when an older elven man woke him up to make him drink some soup and eat some bread. Zevran ate with him in the kitchen, glancing around at the meager surroundings. It was comfortable enough. Small, but Zevran knew having one's own house in a place like this meant they were comparatively well off.

The man ate across the table from him, occasionally glancing up to study his face. Finally he said, "You can stay until you heal up a bit more. My daughter says you were in pretty terrible shape last night. She tells me you're in some kind of trouble and need a place to hide out. Now, whatever it is, I won't judge. People protect each other here and I'd like to think your parents would do the same if my girl needed it. If she trusts you, I do then too, for now."

Zevran sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"I'm Cyrion Tabris, by the way," he said, stretching his hand over the table. "I doubt my daughter introduced herself before dropping you off here. She's not much for conversation these past few months. Her name is Aria, but most call her by her family name since it seems every three girls is named the same."

"Like Zevran," he teased tiredly.

Zevran felt weary again and Cyrion seemed to sense it. He helped him back to bed and gave him something warm and bitter to drink. Zevran fell asleep soon after.

***

Tabris returned to her self-imposed routine. Her days felt too long unless they were broken into pieces. Most of the time she spent working her job at the tannery, cutting and stitching pieces of leather together before sending them off to the embroiderer. She hated it, but she was one of the few elven women who worked there and knew she was lucky, considering everything, to even find something that paid that well. And now that the weather was cooling down the smell was not quite as bad as before. She barely ate the first two weeks. Everything stunk and it left her constantly sick to her stomach.

When she wasn't working at the tannery, she spent her hours as an unpaid apprentice to a locksmith. She figured her years of learning how to break them might be helpful in learning how to make stronger ones. She did good work, but whenever she got too proud, her master would remind her again and again of the adage taught to him: locks only keep out honest thieves.

Tabris worked her hands nearly raw the next two days, trying to put aside the intrusion. She didn't like people in her space and while Zevran had turned out to be harmless, he could have been much worse. She needed to increase security and she needed to practice her skills with blades. She had gotten sloppy.

She came to have dinner at her father's house as she often did and was surprised to see Zevran sitting alone at the table.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked.

"Your father has offered to let me rent the spare bedroom," Zevran said.

"He is still not well," Cyrion explained, entering the room again with a huge pot of stew. "I could not just toss him to the wolves outside. Careful now, that's hot."

Tabris looked skeptically over at Zevran as her father served. "I have a feeling he can take care of himself now, Papa. He's got more money than our whole neighbourhood has in his jacket, he doesn't need your charity."

"I intend to work," Zevran justified. "I've done some work tailoring before and your father introduced me to a seamstress who needs another pair of hands. The money is yours if you want it. It will not help me now."

"You honestly just want to disappear?" Tabris asked, frowning. "You want to board in a tiny house in an Alienage under siege, working for a few silver a week?"

Cyrion murmured to Tabris, "He would not be the first in our home to have wanted to make a new life for themselves, child. Be kind."

Tabris ate silently with them and made her excuses to head home. She slept poorly, but tried her best to keep her eyes shut. She couldn't work as hard as she did without sleep and taking it easy was not an option. She kept thinking of those forty sovereigns. It was different, she reassured herself again and again. It would be okay to take that money, to take it and be silent and have some peace. Forty sovereigns was enough to start a whole new life elsewhere or at least never have to work again here. But it was too easy and she didn't trust easy. There was always a price.


	2. Chapter 2

Zevran had exaggerated slightly when he said he had experience as a tailor. He pretended to be a tailor for about two weeks when stalking a target and he had found that he enjoyed it and had spent more time repairing trousers than actually working at his real job. Still within a few days it came back to him enough that he could help with less complicated things. The elderly women he worked for both loved him instantly and he found himself wanting to live up to their praise. 

On the second week, Deidre, the one who ran the front of the shop, pulled him aside. 

"Zevran," she said kindly, "you're going to have to cover those tattoos up. I don't want to have someone asking around for a Crow and someone needing a meal points you out. Now, Ilsa, the chemist, she has this amazing cream. We could probably tint it for someone of your complexion."

Zevran was stunned at first, but he had made no secret of his occupation and he had forgotten how rare tattoos were in Ferelden. 

"Does Celia know?" Zevran asked.

"Of course, darling. I don't hide things from my wife. If Cyrion Tabris trusts you, then we do too. Good man. Now he's a strong one. Everything he's been through. The girl too. You've met his daughter, right?"

"Yes," Zevran said diplomatically. "She is...a delight."

Deidre laughed. "For someone who needed to lie for a living, you have a remarkably honest face. It's okay. I don't really care for her that much either. Too much like her mother, I think. Anyways. I'll pop over to Ilsa's later and we'll make something up for you. Now you keep practicing your hemming and we may be able to actually sell something that you've made."

Zevran looked at the mangled skirt he had been working on and refused to look embarrassed. The next one would be better.

***

Zevran woke in the middle of the night, hearing something on the roof. He grabbed his daggers and opened the window. He grasped onto the thankfully mislaid bricks and pulled himself up. He recognized the figure and stopped.

Tabris was sitting on an overhang, her feet almost on the neighbour's roof. She turned, seeing Zevran. She seemed to hesitate, as if she didn't know who it was. 

Zevran came closer and she patted the tiles beside her. Zevran sat, nervous about slipping and breaking his neck. 

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she apologized. "I thought I was quiet." 

"You forget, my dear, that I am a trained assassin. Every sound of danger wakes me."

"Zevran, I've been doing this every night for the past week. You only noticed now?"

Zevran said sheepishly, "I've been injured and it's a long day at work. You work even longer hours than I do. Why are you not in bed?"

She shook her head. "I heard something in the market the other day about Wardens poking around. Apparently there had been an assassination attempt on them. I was worried that someone might come around here."

"Don't your people have a militia? I've seen them glaring at me since I've gotten here. Or have I not been washing well enough?"

Tabris gave a ghost of a smile. "I didn't want to say anything."

"Ah, to be wounded by such a beautiful woman. You might as well push me off now, end my misery."

"Trust me, you don't smell as bad as I do. Anyone can smell a leather worker a hundred paces away."

"Now, that is a smell I actually like," Zevran admitted. "Back in Antiva City, I lived in the leather district. It smells like home to me. I loved seeing the new pieces in the shops. There was this one pair of boots I loved. I thought I'd buy them when I returned from Ferelden, but I guess it is not to be."

"We should switch jobs then, if you like it so much. I could figure out a needle."

"Yes, but Deidre is in love with me and worries you'll steal Celia away."

Tabris laughed. "It's okay, I know she doesn't like me. Even when I was little, she always suspected me and Shianni were the ones stealing her underwear off her clothesline. We were, of course, but she had no proof."

"So you are a thief then," he commented. "You have a lockpick's fingers."

She glanced at her hands. "Yeah, I guess that's where my life of crime started then. Honestly, I wasn't really involved in that sort of thing until a few years ago and I stopped awhile back. I don't have the heart to be a thief. Can't even imagine what you're going through. You've probably been in your trade for what a decade?"

"Closer to two," Zevran admitted. "I was recruited as a boy and I am not as young as I look. You Fereldens all age so poorly with your fair skin."

"How are you doing then? This isn't exactly what you're used to."

Zevran shrugged. "Better than bleeding to death in the streets. I don't know. I never chose to be an assassin. It is slow, but it is...not terrible. Maybe when the Blight is over I'll move elsewhere. Maybe Rivian or somewhere else a little warmer. It is just strange. I have never slept so many nights in the same bed in years. And it is certainly the longest I've gone without sex."

Tabris' eyes widened. "You've only been here three weeks."

"An eternity, I assure you."

"I wouldn't go spreading that around," Tabris said. "People are a little conservative around here. No sex before marriage and even when you're married, it's supposed to be something private."

"Truly? You do not strike me as some blushing virgin."

Tabris went silent, looking away.

Zevran asked quietly, "Do I offend you? I apologize if so."

"Look," Tabris said, "the people around here gossip ridiculously and eventually someone is going to tell you something so I'd rather you just hear it from me."

The wind started to pick up and Tabris tucked her hair behind her ears. 

"I was supposed to get married a few months ago," she began. "It was a double wedding for me and my cousin Soris. Arranged, for both of us. But I had been writing Nelaros for maybe a year beforehand. I liked him. I was happy. The day of...the Arl's son, Vaughan. He's always been trouble around here. Shianni pissed him off and he came back during the ceremony. He took us, Soris' wife, and some other girls. He wanted to throw a "real" party back at his Estate."

Zevran swallowed. "Then?"

Tabris started crying silently. She wiped her tears away before continuing, "Vaughan decided that his friends could all have a go at us, but I riled him up, tried to make him think he should...he should be the only one. He had the other girls locked up and took me first. I pretended to go along with it. It was the only way I could think of to keep him away from the others. Vaughan...well, he did what he did to me. I saw he had a letter opener on his bedside table. When I could, I grabbed it, tried to kill him. Then he pinned me down and it happened all over again. A few of the militia managed to get into the Estate and freed the other girls, but they thought I was dead and they left me. There were raids while they tried to find the men who had rescued the others. The entire time, Vaughan had me locked in his room."

"How did you get free?" Zevran asked.

Tabris said, "I didn't. The miltiamen were tracked and executed. The next day I was thrown out of Vaughan's carriage in the Alienage's square and he threw a bag of gold pieces at my feet."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Tabris shook her head. "I didn't tell you this so you felt bad for me. I just wanted someone to listen. They blamed me, in the end. No one would ever say it to my face, of course. They thought I took some deal or gave our people up. Or that I sold myself or was having an affair. They thought I wasn't worth their sons and daughters dying for. It's like they look at me and think, "Her? This is who we traded our people for?" And I feel the same. If I could have somehow done something to protect those seven men, I would have. I did what I could to save Shianni and Valora but it wasn't enough. I just wanted someone to listen and believe me and not think of their dead child or brother or lover or friend. That's all I wanted."

Zevran put his arm tentatively around her and murmured, "I believe you."

She sighed. "Thank you."

Zevran swallowed hard. "I..."

His heart raced as he tried to form the words. "I..."

Tabris turned to look up at him. "Zevran, are you okay?"

Zevran finally managed, "I was raped."

Tabris pulled back, her hand still on his chest. Her eyes softened. 

Zevran confessed, the words tumbling out before he could stop them, "The Crows force their recruits through many trials. Either they survive them and continue, or they perish. There were eighteen of us the year I was bought. Only two of us survived. By the time I was grown, I had experienced many of the worst things a child can. One of my trials was...I was tied down and six men took me, one by one. I knew better than to cry or beg, I knew they would just kill me. So I pretended I wasn't afraid. I pretended that I didn't care. After that, I was taught seduction as a primary tool because they thought I had the right "attitude" about it."

He realized Tabris was holding him and he allowed himself to bury his head in her hair. He murmured, "I have never told a soul about that, not even my oldest friends. It is not a thing others can understand, not even Crows."

"How old were you?" She asked softly.

Zevran shook his head. "Fifteen? Sixteen? I do not know. I try not to remember much about those years."

Tabris said nothing else and held him in her embrace. He closed his eyes, listening to the wind as the first of the fall air danced between houses. 

"The older I am," he said quietly, "the more I realize the parts of me I despise most are the parts of me the Crows made. I thought to myself that I might become a better man, now that I was given another chance at life. But I wonder more and more if there is any part of me not poisoned by them."

She laced her fingers with his and gave his hand a squeeze. "If they had destroyed all of you, you wouldn't be asking that. You could make this place your home. You could have a good life. I think you are very capable of being a good man, from everything I've seen. So just keep trying."

Zevran tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed the top of her head. "It is late, dear friend, and we should both sleep."

"You make me sound so sweet," she said. "Dear friend."

"You and I are both very alone in this world," Zevran admitted. "I am not someone who shows affection well or easily, but I am trying. "

She smiled, wiping the last of her tears away. "Me too."

Even though she was perfectly capable of getting down herself, Zevran still helped her get off the roof. She came in through her old bedroom window and looked around the room in the darkness.

"No decorations?" She teased.

Zevran shook his head. "I can barely darn socks. You don't want to see any of my tapestries yet."

Tabris traced a bare section of wall. "I used to have this painting of the ocean right here. It was huge and really ugly now that I think of it. I always liked it though. I think Soris accidently ripped a whole in it playing inside the house. You could always tell, because the paint is a little darker right here."

She turned back to Zevran. "I should go."

"No," he said. "It is late. Sleep in your old bed, I'll sleep on the couch."

"Shianni is just down the hall," Tabris reminded. "I'll just bunk up with her. I'm sure she won't mind."

"I don't know. I woke her once and she punched me," Zevran said, rubbing his jaw. "I nearly lost a tooth." 

"Well, she likes me, I'll be okay."

"I pray that you are."

She hugged him. "Good night, Zevran."

"Good night."


	3. Chapter 3

Tabris was just at the edge of the workshop, trying to catch a breeze from the height of the furnace. She heard laughing and she looked, seeing Zevran walking by, two young women and one gentleman at his side, giggling at his jokes. 

Zevran gestured them to the shop and Tabris immediately tried to wipe her face and smooth out her hair.

"Hello, my dear," he greeted cheerfully. "These are some new acquaintances of mine. Melody, Helenia, Gregor, this is the lovely Aria Tabris. Though I imagine you all know each other already. I have so many new people to meet to catch up with."

Melody put her hand on Zevran's arm. "Now, Zev, we shouldn't bother your friend while she's obviously working so hard. Come on."

"In a moment, darling. Now, I was just wanting to pass on an invitation from your father. He'd like for you to come for dinner tonight. Apparently Soris and his wife are coming to. I imagine he has his reasons."

Tabris smirked. "You sound suspicious."

Zevran laughed. "They tell me any time a father gathers all his children around, he either has too much affection or too much bad news. Your father seemed joyful, but we shall see. Tonight then?"

"Yeah," Tabris agreed. "Try not to get into too much trouble."

Zevran teased, "My dear, I always behave myself."

He escorted his new friends off and Tabris rolled her eyes. She knew people were chasing him because he seemed so exotic, but it seemed a little much. He was handsome, sure, but there were plenty of handsome people in the Alienage. The accent endeared him a little, maybe. That was all. She knew as long as everyone was having fun, then it didn't matter. 

***

That night, Tabris came to her father's home for dinner. Cyrion was already serving when she entered and she apologized for her lateness.

"No matter," Cyrion said cheerfully. "Come, have a seat. Now that we are all together, there is something I'd like to share with all of you."

Zevran mouthed to her, "See?" 

Tabris ignored him and settled in her chair.

"I've already discussed this with Shianni," Cyrion said, holding his niece’s hand, "and we both agree this is right for her. I've been writing to Jader. There's a nice young man named Sern who is interested in Shianni's hand in marriage. He's a gentleman's gentleman and recently was offered a position in Denerim. His intention is to move here and be settled by winter."

Tabris hesitated but at seeing Shianni so happy, her chest relaxed.

Zevran cheered and kissed her on both cheeks. "Congratulations, cousin."

Soris and Valora also embraced her, saying how beautiful a bride she would be and how lovely everything would be for her. 

Tabris felt like she couldn't breathe, but she hid it, taking long shallow breaths. When they had settled, Valora and Soris exchanged a glance.

"Well," Valora said, "we have an announcement to make too."

Shianni covered her mouth. "Maker, are you..."

Soris grinned, putting his arm around his wife. "Yeah, we're having a baby."

A second round of congratulations went around the table and without thinking, Tabris blurted out, "Is it yours?"

The room went silent and Cyrion said gently, "It has been awhile since there has been a little one in our family. Valora, Soris, I wish you as much happiness as you can hold and to be there as best a grandfather I can be for your child."

Soris embraced him and Tabris left the table, heading outside. Zevran went after her, closing the door behind her.

Tabris hadn't realized she was hyperventilating until Zevran was rubbing her back and encouraging her to breathe. She tried to catch her breath, panicking. 

He murmured again and again, "You're safe, you're safe." 

Eventually she gained control of her lungs and began to weep. Zevran held her tightly to him and curled into him.

"I'm an asshole," she whimpered.

Zevran assured, "You're not."

"Who asks that?"

"Broken people. People who do not expect fortunate things to happen to anyone. It's all right, my dear. They will understand. You are lucky to be loved as much as you are. They will forget in time."

Tabris murmured, "But I won't."

Zevran laughed bitterly, "My dear, if a tactless question is the worse thing that haunts you, then you should count yourself fortunate and move on."

Zevran pulled away. "You should go spend this time with your family. I will give all of you some space. You do not need a stranger among you right now. Especially not one like me."

"My Dad cares about you," Tabris protested. "He wanted you to be there tonight."

"To be polite, perhaps, but that is your father. He is polite to snails as he escorts them out of his house."

Zevran waited for a laugh and seemed disappointed when she smiled weakly.

"We should go back," Zevran said, offering his hand. "Let us make polite conversation and then go drink ourselves silly and forget about the happy people." 

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Zevran said, "Because when I was a strange man bleeding to death in your apartment, you saved my life. Someone might think that is because you have a good heart, which I think is also true. But I think it is because you have been afraid, truly afraid, and know when you see it in another's eyes. We understand each other and it has been a trying year for us both. Is it not so strange I would want to be your friend? This is what I am told friends do, care for each other. So let me be there for you as you have been there for me."

Tabris took his hand. "Okay."

***

The next day, Tabris took Zevran his lunch and ate with him in the alley just outside the shop while Deidre stared suspiciously. The pair told stories and laughed until Zevran was finally called back in to work. Zevran returned smiling to himself.

"You have a nice time with your sweetheart, love?" Deidre asked. 

Zevran reassured, "My sweet, you are the only woman for me, you have nothing to be jealous of." 

Deidre blushed and gave him a gentle push. "Go on then, get back to work."

***

It seemed a strange thing to say, but Tabris was very excited for her brawl in the alley. Several of the neighbourhood children also seemed interested, watching from a safe distance. Zevran and Tabris circled each other, waiting for the other to move.

"I warn you," Zevran said, pointing his dagger at her. "I was a professional."

"At sneaking around like a little pixie," she teased. "You ever have a real street fight, Zevran? Come on. Buchan over there has more muscles than you do."

The boy in question flexed his arms and his friend looked in admiration.

"Let us come and see then, shall we?" Zevran asked.

Tabris shifted her stance, settling in. She waited for Zevran to strike and then slid low. He blocked her blow and spun around to face her again. He moved to cut across her shoulder but she turned, pushing him off balance. He stepped back to try to steady himself and she threw herself at him, knocking him down. Before he could move, she put the very tip of Fang at his throat. Zevran looked up at her in something close to adoration. 

A few of the children exchanged coppers and someone yelled out, "Rematch!"

Tabris stood up and held out her hand. "Shall we give the people what they want?"

Zevran groaned, "Savages, every one of you. Fine."

She helped him up and a little girl called out, "Punch him in his handsome face!"

"Are you any good with your fists, Antivan?" Tabris asked.

"My previous lovers have never complained."

Tabris grimaced. "Ew, Zev-"

Zevran took advantage of her surprise and landed a jab on her shoulder. She threw down her daggers too and circled him, keeping her hands up. She kept her guard up, waiting for him to strike first.

"You never make the first move," Zevran said. "Why is that?"

"My mother once told me that most girls weren't going to be built to be as strong as boys," Tabris said, "but we can build the same endurance, if not better. You tire yourself trying to get me and then I don't even have to lay a finger on you."

"Oh, two of us can play that game."

"This is boring," one the children whined. "When are they going to fight?"

Tabris smirked and ducked, striking Zevran in the gut. He grimaced and swung out, hitting her collarbone. She scowled and blocked the next of his blows with her forearms. When he was catching his breath, she landed an uppercut on his jaw. He stumbled back slightly and when she stepped forward, he swung out and hit her square in the nose. 

Tabris crumpled to the ground and Zevran yelped in apology, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. My dear, are you all right?"

Tabris managed to eke out, "Ow."

Zevran slung her arm over his shoulder and helped bring her back to the Tabris household. She felt a little woozy, but Zevran kept her upright. Once they got in, Shianni instantly started panicking at the state of her future bridesmaid. Cyrion also chased Zevran down, lecturing him about the right way to treat a woman while Zevran tried to show the giant bruise forming over his abdomen. 

Tabris laughed at the situation, not fully comprehending what was happening as a healer set her nose. Someone was kind enough to show her face in the mirror and she poked at the plaster, giggling.

She stayed over at their house that night on the couch. It wasn't until she was at work when someone pointed out that someone had drawn a man's penis on the plaster. When she got back home to find Zevran having a nap, she threw a cold bucket of ice water on him, having no pity on him as he woke up shrieking.


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks before the wedding, Tabris and the other four elven women in the tannery were swiftly and politely told that their services were no longer required. The Blight was bad on everyone's business and they had to cut costs. A few days later, the elven men were told the same thing.

Tabris didn't tell her family at first, spending more time at her apprenticeship. But then shortly after her master brought her into his office.

"Look, I like you, girl, I do, but...you've got to understand. It's bad for business having you out front right now. Lot of people looking for a bit more security and they see you and well, you know what people are like. When things settle down, we could look into you coming back, but right now, as it is, having an elf out front making locks doesn't inspire confidence. You get it, right?"

Tabris swallowed hard. "Yeah, I get it."

She left and returned to her apartment. She looked around at the tiny studio, barely big enough for her. She'd have to give it up. Move back in with her father. Shianni would be moving out soon, so there would be space. Tabris wouldn't be able to find a job, not right now. Maybe she'd try to get matched up, get sent off to another city. 

She put her keys on the kitchen counter and sat on her bed. She played with the loose floorboard, moving it back and forth with her foot. Eventually she knelt down and pulled it up. Only one thing lay underneath it: a velvet purse containing ten gold pieces. She took the bag and with trembling hands opened it, laying each piece on her bedspread. 

Tabris heard the window open and she looked up in panic, only to see Zevran entering. He closed it and shut the blinds.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "Your landlady was glaring at me for coming so late at night. I was trying to preserve your dignity. Your nose looks better. In this light, at least."

Tabris pulled her pillow over the money. "Why are you here?"

"Word travels fast here," Zevran said, sitting down at her table. "Not often a girl gets fired twice in one week. The tannery might have stung, but ending an apprenticeship is personal. I know you won't have told your family yet, but I thought you might want some company. Find a solution before you do something foolish." 

"Deidre hiring?" Tabris teased. 

"For you, never. She will do whatever she can to protect me from a heartbreaker such as yourself. A true slattern."

Tabris frowned, her hand resting on her pillow. Zevran sat beside her and lifted it, finding the money underneath.

"I always imagined that you would never spend it," Zevran commented. 

"I wouldn't have been able to explain it, even if I could," Tabris said quietly. "I thought at first about giving half to Shianni and Valora. I wasn't the only one who suffered there. But I couldn't even get the words out to my dearest friend and cousin. So I put it away and tried to forget."

"You and I both know that people do not simply forget."

"How do you do this, Zevran?" Tabris asked. "You've gone through so much worse then me and you seem...so well adjusted."

"Maybe. But I have never been able to be vulnerable. It was never safe to. Even here, even with you. Part of my mind is always racing, wondering when someone will recognize me, when someone will hunt me down. You are soft because you have had the luxury to be. Do not disparage that. It is a gift."

Tabris stroked his cheek and he held her hand to his face.

"Do not tear at the wounds he made," Zevran murmured. "Do not punish yourself for something you were forced to do." 

"Do you listen to that advice yourself?"

Zevran smiled. "Only when it comes from your lips, my dear."

Tabris pulled away and rose to her feet. Zevran stood beside her. 

"Take it," Zevran encouraged. "You could buy your own house. Maybe get married, have some children. Do whatever makes you happy." 

"I can't," she said, raising her fists to her temples. "I can't."

Zevran took her hands and kissed them both before bringing them into his. She looked up into his eyes, trembling.

"Give me his blood money then," he said. "Don't let it hide beneath your floor boards reminding you every time that terrible wood creaks. Give me those ten sovereigns and I will give you ten of mine. I'll get rid of it. Then you just have a present from a friend and not the memory of that piece of filth. Okay?"

Tabris nodded, still shaking. He took her into his arms and petted her hair.

"Do you really not want it?" She asked. 

"This is my home now," Zevran said. "I have mixed feelings about that gold myself. Let me use it to help you and I will feel better about it."

"How will you get rid of it?"

"Don't worry about it," Zevran comforted. "I'll find a little Chantry orphanage or something. Trade with me and then it's out of your hands."

***

Despite his intentions to be a better man, Zevran only gave half the coin to an orphanage where a Chantry Sister nearly fainted at receiving it. He spent a little on himself at a whorehouse, getting drunk and fooling around, but receiving some very valuable information. After a rollicking good time and tipping everyone well, Zevran still had about 150 silvers left and a plan that was already moving along quite well.

By the evening, Zevran found himself in a bar in the nicer end of town. He entered a private room, dressed as a servant. He kept his head down as he served a few drinks, smiling playfully at a man who was eyeing him up.

Zevran did his best to keep the man's attention, coyly, as if he was truly not believing someone might be interested in a mere server. Eventually the man followed Zevran into the hallway and he offered him a few extra sovereigns to serve him privately in a room upstairs.

Zevran blushed, toying with his hair as the man led them into a bought room. Zevran poured them both a glass of wine as the man stripped down. 

"I've never done this with a man before," Zevran said bashfully. "Please, be gentle with me, sir."

The man tossed Zevran onto the bed and onto his back. Zevran smiled up at him innocently and with surprise said, "Why, you're the Arl's son, aren't you?"

Vaughan insisted, "We don't have all day, knife ear. Get your trousers off now."

Zevran reached under the bed, sighing. "Now, that's not very nice."

Zevran swung his dagger out, purposely cutting down the faint scar across Vaughan's throat. He fell, gasping, before Zevran stabbed him in the heart.

Zevran reached into his pocket and took out the last few silvers. He placed them in a circle around the embedded dagger and left the room, sneaking out into the night.

***

Tabris heard about Vaughan's death two days later. It was a great scandal him being found as he was and there were rumours he had been attached to gang activity. But since there had been no suspicion of the Alienage, the news had trickled in. Interesting, but not exciting in the context of the Blight.

When Tabris heard she went straight to her father's house where he, Zevran, and Shianni were having breakfast. Zevran looked up at her as she relayed what she had heard, his little smile unwavering. He feigned shock when the other two elves glanced at him, claiming he was too upset to eat.

Tabris met him in the alley and before she could yell at him, he put up his hands.

"Consider it a wedding present for your cousin," Zevran explained. "Now she can go through this without looking over her shoulder and you can stand beside her without his shadow on you."

Tabris hissed, "You could have brought another purge on us."

"I know I joke about how poorly I did in my past profession but that is because I didn't have the heart for it, not the skill," Zevran explained. "If I had wanted to, I could have pinned this on Divine herself. Okay, maybe not her, but someone else relatively important. This was my last one. I will never risk it again."

Tabris was surprised by how vulnerable he looked then and she said softly, "Thank you, Zev. Thank you for doing what I couldn't."

He cupped her face. "Thank you for surviving, my dear friend."

Shianni called them both to get inside before breakfast grew cold. Before they did, Tabris kissed his cheek. It was hard to tell because of his dark skin, but she could have sworn she saw him blush.


	5. Chapter 5

Tabris gave notice at her apartment building and packed up her things. Zevran helped her move along with his crew of attractive young men and women who followed his every beck and call. Tabris would have called him out on it, but she appreciated not having to do much heavy lifting.

In return, she helped Shianni move into her new home, days away from becoming a wife. Once settled in, Shianni wanted to sleep there, just to be used to it before the wedding. Tabris offered to stay with her and the two curled up in the big bed together, like when they were small. 

Now having an empty day, Tabris went to bring Zevran lunch at the tailor's and the two ate outside, even though the days were growing cold. Zevran kept his jacket around Tabris' shoulders, promising he'd warm up by the fire later. He was going to take the next few days off to help out with the wedding, after being pleaded by Cyrion to do so.

"Quite frankly, I am excited," he admitted. "I've never been to a wedding where someone didn't end up dead. Hopefully this one is tame."

"I think your efforts have ensured it is," Tabris said.

"Did you tell her?"

She shook her head. "No. We talked about it a little. Vaughan never touched her and the men who roughed her up were killed during her rescue. Same with Valora. Shianni was afraid he might try again and she's relieved now, but she thinks he just got what he deserved and its not some strange coincidence." 

"She's not wrong. Someone people just simply need assassinating."

Tabris gave him a gentle shove. "Well, you promised. Last one. Now you get to be a boring tailor for the rest of your days with us."

"Speaking of which," he said, "I have something for you."

Zevran reached into his coat pocket, brushing against her hip. He brought out a pair of soft green gloves, perfectly stitched and felt like butter in her hands.

"A little warm for the season, but soon enough I am afraid," he said. "Try them on."

She did so, surprised at how well they fit. "They're gorgeous."

"They've been my homework for the past week," he said proudly. "They're for you. Something to keep your little lock picking hands warm." 

She beamed. "Thank you. I don't have anything for you though."

"Well," he teased, "I like shiny things and leather. I imagine you can come up with something that would suit me."

They both heard Deidra clearing her throat and Tabris stood from the doorstep.

"I should get going," she said. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Tonight then."

***

The Tabris household was packed to the near brim with people. Cyrion was attempting to feed all of them and Tabris followed along behind him, attempting to be a good hostess. The sight of the fierce little creature attempting to be a demure and dutiful little daughter was actually quite amusing. She had even borrowed some of the same mixture Zevran wore in order to cover up the bruising around her nose.

Zevran stayed mainly to himself, despite his admirers. He mainly kept his eye on the bride to be. Shianni was waiting nervously by the door, running over any time it opened to see if Sern had finally arrived. Zevran was half expecting the poor boy had gotten cold feet and made a dash for it. 

Instead the door opened to reveal an elven lad, his clothes nearly torn from him. His escort followed him, just as worse for wear. Everything happened quickly after that. Tabris went straight to them and brought them into her old bedroom to have a look at their injuries. Soris ran to get a healer. Unsure what else to do, Zevran went to help his friend.

Sern lay on the bed while Tabris cut the rest of the clothes off his companion. She stopped, seeing the dark lines coming from a wound in his chest. She cleaned it out and tried to drain some of the blood into a bowl. She tried to prop him up and Zevran helped her lift him to a good position.

The groom was less bloodied and seemed to have only superficial cuts and scrapes. His face was pale and he was shaking with fever. 

Tabris said quietly, "Zevran, make sure the healer examines every single person before they go. Whatever this is, it could spread quickly."

"Do you know?" Zevran asked.

Tabris murmured, "I'm not certain. I don't think it's good though. Don't let anyone else in this room and don't touch anything out there. Just in case."

Zevran did as she asked and escorted the healer in himself. He stood at the other side of the room, watching Tabris work alongside Master Falen. They spoke lowly to each other, but in all honesty Zevran's skill at Ferelden's language was not strong enough to understand such technical terms.

When the two finally rose from their work, Zevran asked, "What is the verdict?"

"That Sern is a very lucky man," Master Falen replied quietly. "From what they have told me, they were attacked by darkspawn traveling through the north. No inn would take them and they kept walking. I have made Jor as comfortable as I can, but he has severe blood poisoning. It is likely he will pass soon. From what I can see, the Blight has left them both untouched but I will quarantine Sern for the next twelve hours until we are sure. Only direct contact will spread it and I was properly covered. I will examine your guests, but I believe they will be safe."

"Then I should stay too," Tabris said. "I worked on Jor before you arrived."

Zevran argued, "Then I should too. I helped you lift him."

Master Falen replied, "If so, then you should be kept separately from Sern. There is a second bedroom available, is there not? You two could remain there. Propriety aside, this is an emergency."

Tabris laughed. "Master Falen, I have no propriety left in the Alienage. We'll be fine."

The two of them were escorted into Shianni's room and the door was locked. Both could hear vaguely about the announcement, the loud shocks and gasps. 

"I hope twelve hours is enough," Tabris said. "I wouldn't want to risk anyone else to this. I feel bad enough that I risked your life."

"Twelve hours is plenty," Zevran said, sitting on the floor. "I saw the Blight throughout the south of your country while I traveled. You can see it in their eyes. It spreads like wildfire and burns just as quickly. We will both know soon enough."

Tabris frowned. "Why were you in the south?"

Zevran said, "It was where I needed to be."

"But if you were running from Antiva, surely you would have come in from the north. Unless you went to Gwaren, but Gwaren was almost destroyed within the weeks after the fall at Ostagar. And you said you had only been in the country for a few weeks before we met."

Zevran tried to remember the exact details of what he had told her. It hadn't been a lie, he knew that. He had said that he was no longer a Crow and that his old guild would hunt him down if they knew he was alive. He couldn't go back to Antiva and the Alienage was a safe place for him. Had there been more? Was there something else that might have slipped out that he couldn't take back now?" 

Tabris said quietly, "I can see you thinking away there, Zev. I know you. Right now you're trying to figure out how much you can lie to me without me figuring it out. You didn't leave the Crows because you had a change of heart, did you?"

Zevran swallowed hard. "No...it is more complicated than that."

"We've got time," Tabris said, sitting beside him. 

Zevran admitted, "But you no longer will care for me when I tell you."

"That's for me to decide," she said. "Tell me."

Zevran began his tale. He spoke of his lovers, of how he watched one kill the other while he did nothing. He spoke of choosing to end his life as a legend, only for the sole Grey Warden to spare his life after Zevran's failed ambush outside the city. Tabris listened, her eyes giving nothing of what she thought. 

"So why here?" She asked.

Zevran admitted, "Because what I said to you was true. This was a place to hide, where I could just disappear and not be found again. But there was this spark in me, just barely there, that thought that living would not be such a terrible thing. But you have fanned it. You gave me a chance and I have tried to be worthy of that. You have helped me find something to live for. I would not be here if you did not save my life. And you save it again, every day. I did not come to Ferelden to make a better life. I came to end it. But here...here I feel like I could be better. That I could be happy. I was never truly happy in Antiva, not even while Rinna lived. I could never be vulnerable with her or Taliesen. I never knew what would be used against me if they were forced to betray me. Your friendship is nothing like that and it is so precious to me I could not imagine my life without it. If what I have told you makes you hate me, I understand. But please do not leave me."

To his surprise, she hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Zev."

He cradled her head, closing his eyes. "You should not pity me for being a monster."

"I see a little boy," she said softly. "This scared little boy who just wants someone to keep him safe and love him. Whenever I see that kid in your eyes, I want to just hold you and not let go. Zevran, you have been abused and tortured and have suffered more than I can even imagine. I couldn't hate you for that. You just make me love you more. You are my best friend and I would do anything for you. If any Crow wants you, they'll have to come through me."

He said nothing, burying his face in her hair. 

They stayed up all night talking until Master Falen approved them to leave. Sern had survived the night, apparently spending most of it talking to Shianni through the window. The pair decided to keep their initial plans for the wedding, not wanting to waste a moment together.

In the dawn's light, he saw Tabris exhausted and in her crumpled party dress borrowed from a shorter cousin. She worked in the kitchen, helping to make breakfast for the others. 

A thought started to arise in him but he pushed it aside. He let himself acknowledge that she was in fact quite beautiful, something that he had observed before but had not truly acknowledged. 

She looked up at him with a tired smile and his heart fluttered. 

The dangerous thought returned again and he tried to squash it. It pestered him like a mosquito until he finally went to speak to her.

"I think I might stay at an inn until the wedding," he said. "There is not enough space for all of us here and your family should stay together."

"Are you sure?" She asked. "We could always make room."

"No, no, my dear. I have enough coin. You get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

She kissed his cheek. "See you."

Zevran touched his cheek still as he left the house. He found himself unable to stop smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a quiet ceremony. Sern was still recovering from his illness and sat down for much of it. He held Shianni's hand throughout and the pair only had eyes for each other. Shianni was a beautiful bride and Tabris was glad that her cousin was so happy. 

As they were announced husband and wife, the crowd applauded and cheered. Tabris heard a whistle and turned slightly, seeing Zevran grinning among the guests. Once the newlyweds had been led around the tree, the attendants were meant to follow with either a partner or a sweetheart or other loved one. Soris walked with his wife, his hand protectively on her hip. 

Tabris had meant to walk with her father, but he had been called away. Tabris looked quickly for a partner, relieved that Zevran stood up and took her hand.

Zevran teased. "I have to warn you, I have no idea what we are doing. I just could not have you panicking like a fawn. Have you roped me into marrying you?"

Tabris walked with him slowly, holding their hands up high. "When the married couple walks around the tree, it's to signal their intent to be a part of their community. It makes their vows public one again. Typically they walk around twelve times. The old superstition is that the amount of times you can do it without either of you tripping is how many children you'll have."

"Is it really that-"

Zevran slipped on a root but Tabris caught him before he could fall.

She tried not to laugh. "The attendants follow as a sign of support, echoing that they are witness to this vow. We're offering our support to stand by them in their marriage. So yes, I have roped you into something."

Zevran glanced over his shoulder. "Do you think your Aunt Ginny saw that? I think she might fancy me, I don't want to ruin my chances."

Tabris rolled her eyes. "Zev, I don't think you could do something that would ruin your chances with anyone here. They think you're the most eligible bachelor in the whole Alienage. I had someone say those exact words to me yesterday."

"Was someone asking if I was available? I'm curious, who?"

"A matchmaker actually," Tabris chuckled. "She wanted to know about your career history. I said you were a vagabond and sold stolen pencils on the side of the road." 

"Ha," Zevran muttered.

"Hey, you wanted to keep a low profile. Getting married and shipped off to Highever is not exactly low profile."

"You make a decent point. Did she have any choice suitors for you?"

Tabris felt the tips of her ears redden. "She actually thought Alarith."

"The shopkeeper?" Zevran asked in surprise.

"Well, she thought I should stay close to home and well, I'm not exactly a first choice candidate since I got my last fiancé killed off. He's a nice guy. A bit older, but I could see us getting along well."

Zevran shook his head. "No, I could not see you doing well as a shopkeeper's wife. You would have to be so polite all the time. I can't see it."

"I can be polite," she protested.

"Very. But you cannot stand someone taking advantage of another. You would probably even fight your poor husband if he overcharged. No, it will not do."

"Well, I'll let that matchmaker that I'll probably never see again know."

They finished their last round and came to stand with the others to welcome guests before the reception. Zevran stood beside Tabris, making up a different connection to her family for every person who came to congratulate them. By the time Zevran had become her father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate, Tabris kicked him out and told him to help serve dinner.  
Tabris barely was able to eat herself, having a different person try to not so subtly ask about why her own marriage hadn't worked out. The gossips eventually took over and Tabris found herself drinking against a wall, trying to ignore all the partygoers. She ended up playing kickball with some kids in the alley.

Zevran joined them after a few bouts, though he was terrible at the game, being not particularly skilled with his foot-eye coordination. One of the family matriarchs eventually caught them and forced everyone to return to the party.

Tabris held out her hand to Zevran and he led her into a slow and awkward dance. 

"Have I found two things in a row the great Zevran is not good at?" She joked.

"I am skilled at many things. It is only reasonable I have a few minor faults."

Maybe it was the twinkling lights roped through the trees, maybe it was the moon lighting his face, but Zevran's eyes had never seemed so bright. He pressed his hand closer to hers, an honest smile crossing his mouth. A flower tucked behind his ear began to fall and she caught it, interrupting the dance.

In that moment, almost every person she had ever known surrounded them, but it felt like they were completely alone. There was only the two of them under the lights and nothing else mattered. 

His eyes met hers and she thought he might felt the same. They couldn't leave, not so early in the evening, so they stayed in the other's arms and danced the reels as if nothing had changed between them. 

After the bride and groom left the party, Zevran and Tabris started walking home. His hand brushed briefly against hers and they look at each other, exchanging a shy smile. They stood at the back door of the house, leaning on the railing of the stairs. Tabris smoothed down her dress but the wind kept catching it. 

"Should we go inside?" She asked. 

"Maybe we can walk a little longer," Zevran suggested.

Tabris followed him towards the shared gardens, linking her fingers with his. When they reached a flat patch of ground, Zevran laid out his coat so they could both sit. 

"I am thinking of moving out of your father's house," Zevran admitted.

"Where will you go?"

"Oh, not far. Find a little place of my own in the Alienage. If I did not think buying a house would bring so much attraction to me, I would consider that. There is a sweet one with a little blue door. Have you seen it? It needs work, but I am a woodcutter's son. I'm sure I could figure it out."

Tabris tried to hide her disappointment. "Yeah, I'm sure that would be nice. You might really like that. I can't imagine you actually working in your spare time though. You might break a nail."

Zevran ignored her. "I grew up dreaming of my own home. I shared such small space with so many people when I lived at the whorehouse and again as a Crow. I have always wanted to wake up in my own bed and know that I was truly home."

Tabris said softly, "Then you should do it. You've been here nearly three months and no one has come after you yet."

"I do not know if that is true, my dear, but I can hope."

She shivered a little in the cold and he put his arm around her. She snuggled into his shoulder.

"I'd miss you," she said. "I was looking forward to living with you."

"Well," Zevran said, clearing his throat. "That is the thing."

"Is my company so awful?" Tabris teased.

"Quite the opposite. I have been thinking of what you said to me when we first met. I have seen a lot of people questioning how proper it is for a single man and a single woman to spend much time alone. I have thought that it much be better for your reputation if we lived apart." 

"I don't care what they think about me," Tabris laughed. "And no one seems to care about who you flirt with."

"I more care about what your father thinks of me. I have grown...fond of the man and I wish him to still like me."

"Zev, you're worrying me. Just be straight with me."

"You know with my sexual preferences that would be impossible," he teased. 

"You're avoiding the subject."

Zevran groaned, "Must you pick at every one of my motivations? I just think it is best if we do not live in the same home, how difficult is that?"

Zevran stood and she looked up at him. His bravado seemed to falter, his eyes vulnerable and almost teary. 

"I will return to the inn tonight," he said quietly. "Let your father know, please. I do not wish him to worry."

"But you'll let me fret about you?" She pleaded. "Zevran, talk to me, please."

She stood and reached out to touch his face. Some of his cream came off on her fingers, revealing his tattoos. He touched her hand, tilting her palm up to look at the smear on her skin. He smiled sadly before gazing into her eyes.

"Forgive me," he said.

He walked away and Tabris felt rooted to the ground. She wanted to call out for him, but she didn't know what to say. Whatever it was, he had made his mind up and she wanted to support him. 

Their dance lingered in her mind, but she put it aside as she went back inside. It was a fleeting moment and whatever it might have been was lost.


	7. Chapter 7

Zevran returned to the inn but instead of retiring to his room, he hit the bar. He wiped off the rest of his makeup, showing the tattoo brazenly. He ordered a few bottles of rum and introduced himself to a group of rather attractive smugglers. He passed the hours laughing and drinking until he was finally stumbling back to bed. One of the more handsome men walked with him, coy about his interest.

Zevran leaned against the doorframe, looking at his potential lover. He was beautiful and Zevran knew a good round of sex might knock her out of his system. It felt wrong and it tugged at his conscience.

Instead he went to bed alone. He attempted to sleep, but eventually he sat up and started drinking again. All he could think about was the woman he had left on her doorstep. Zevran knew he should have been honest with her. He had always tried in the past, no matter how difficult the truth. But this was different. 

If the Crows ever found him, they would kill her. It would be slow and it would be painful and then finally they would torture and kill him. He was not selfish enough to risk her life for a chance at a life with her. 

Yet there were few options left to him. He could flee again but that would only reveal him and with the Blight ravaging the country there were few places he could safely go. He could try to avoid the Tabris family, but the Alienage was not large and rumours would circulate as they did. It might ruin her reputation and while she said she didn't care, he wanted the best for her and didn't want her to lose her chance at finding someone else. 

There was a knock and he looked up in confusion. He put on his shirt and opened the door, surprised to see Cyrion in front of him.

"May I come in?" He asked.

Zevran was too stunned to do anything but let him enter the room. Cyrion looked about, looking oddly calm considering his surroundings.

"How did you find me?" Zevran asked. 

Cyrion commented, "I spent many years as a gentleman's gentleman. There are only so many places a man can hide and I know many of them. I must say that my master had better taste than this, but there are worse places to wake in the morning. Or have you slept yet?"

Zevran blinked. "It is morning?"

Cyrion opened the blinds and Zevran winced at the sudden light. He put up his hand to block it from his view. Cyrion pulled up a chair and sat across from him.

Cyrion asked, "What is your plan here, Zevran? Have you not been happy in my home for all these months?"

"Too happy," Zevran said quietly. 

Cyrion hesitated. "My daughter rarely speaks of her mother. Has she told you anything of her?"

Zevran shook his head. "Very little."

"Adaia was a little older than me," Cyrion said. "She fought as part of the Night Elves in the Orlesian occupation. Brave woman and incredibly beautiful."

"You must miss her," Zevran said sympathetically.

"I do," Cyrion said, "but that is not what I am trying to tell you. My wife suffered a great deal in the years before we met and even though our life together was happy, she always worried it would be taken from her. She had this anxiety that sat on her chest and wore at her. She struggled all our life together. I knew it and I loved her and together we weathered it."

Cyrion said softly, "Our people call it the Tremours, though I imagine they have some other name for it in Antiva. Scars from wars and battles that have marred your soul. Fear, guilt, self-loathing, and utter sadness. Upon meeting you, I saw the same sickness that my wife lived with for so long."

"I was no soldier," Zevran muttered. "I do not deserve your pity."

"You were a child soldier, Zevran," Cyrion said, putting his hand on his knee. "What has been done to you is not your fault. But you have a chance now to find some sort of peace. You do not need to toss it away."

Zevran growled, "You're wasting your time, old man. I don't need you."

Cyrion said gently, "Zevran, if you stay here, you're not going to survive it. You'll find your death at the bottom of a bottle and it will hurt. Or the wrong person will recognize you and end things. Come back home. Be with the people who love you."

Zevran tried to stand, but his knees shook and he sat back down on the bed. 

"You don't know me," Zevran said weakly. "You don't know who I am."

Cyrion said, "I don't need to know all of your burdens. All I know is that you have shown yourself to be a good and kind man. You have been a friend to my daughter when she has needed one most. And I think you need her just as much. So come home, Zevran. Let us put this night behind and start anew."

"If the Crows come-"

"Then they will come. There are many dangers in the Alienage. One more will not bring it to ruin."

"If they come," Zevran insisted, "I need you not to hide me. I need you to give me up. I'll go with them willingly if it means that your family is safe."

"Aria will not agree to that."

Zevran smirked. "No, probably not."

Cyrion stood and offered his hand. Zevran took it and let Cyrion help him up.

***

Tabris stirred from the couch when she heard the door open. Upon seeing Zevran, she rushed over and embraced him. He buried his head in her hair. 

Cyrion said softly, "I'll give you two a moment."

Her father left the room. Zevran started to silently cry. 

"Are you hurt?" Tabris asked fearfully. "Are you alright?"

Zevran murmured, "Tired, my dear friend, so tired I could sleep for days."

"Then let's get you to bed," Tabris said. "You'll feel better after a little rest."

At seeing his sorrowful eyes, Tabris felt her own heart breaking. "What can I do?"

Zevran said, "We should talk."

"Okay."

Zevran led her into his room, keeping the door open a crack for propriety's sake. Even when he was broken like this, he was still trying to protect her.

Zevran sat on the bed and Tabris sat beside him. He looked ahead at the wall, refusing to look her in the eyes.

"Did you know your father had gone to look for me?" He asked.

"I told him not to. I told him that whatever you needed to work through, you needed space. I was worried you were thinking of running away and I wanted you to feel like you could." 

Zevran smiled weakly. "You know me well. But I am glad. I may not have allowed myself to come back here and even now..."

Tabris' heart sank in her chest. "You're not staying, are you?"

Zevran admitted, "I am endangering you the longer I remain. This half year I have lived here has been some of the happiest months of my life. But we are pretending, you and I, that what I was before will not come to destroy us."

"What changed?" Tabris asked. "Did I do something? Say something?"

"No, it is not you. You...you could do nothing that would change how I've grown to care for you. The thought of you will warm me on cold nights on the road and remind me of why I must keep going. The Crows will hurt those I care for most and I cannot let them have you."

Tabris frowned. "Zevran, have you heard something? Did someone threaten you?"

"No."

"Then what's changed? Why now?"

Zevran rubbed his forehead. "I came to my senses."

"That's it?" She asked angrily. "So you're just going to walk away then? You're just going to leave me just when-"

Tabris thought of their dance under the lights, the world shifting underneath their feet. Something between them had changed. She had thought it might be something that would bring them only closer, something beautiful and tender among so much darkness in both their lives.

But now Zevran was leaving and taking the last pieces of her with him.

"Please don't go," she pleaded. 

Zevran said softly, "Please don't make this harder for me. Be angry. Hit me. Scream at me. But please do not beg. It will shatter me."

"I can't do this," she whimpered. 

She rose and left the house, going out to the courtyard. She ran, her bare feet sloshing in the half frozen mud. She heard the door open and someone run down the creaky stairs after her. She turned to see Zevran at the bottom of the steps. 

"You'll freeze out here," he called out. "Come back inside."

"No," she protested. 

She started shivering in her nightgown but she kept her head up tall and her lip stiff. 

After a long weighted moment, Zevran went out to her. He put his jacket around her shoulders and put his arm around her. 

"Come back inside," he murmured. 

"If you leave," she whispered, "it will destroy me. If you want to leave for you, please, I want you to be happy. But don't do this and say it's to protect me."

"You don't understand what they will do to you," Zevran insisted. 

"I was tortured," she said. "Violated and broken again and again. I know how much a person can suffer. I'm not some little girl telling you I'm not scared. I am scared. I'm scared all the time. But you make me feel whole. You make my life worth living again. I need you more than water or shelter or fire. I need you."

Zevran cupped her face in his hands, a slow sad smile crossing his face.

He murmured, "As do I."

She kissed him tentatively and he deepened it, running his fingers through her hair. The cold wind blew past them and Zevran pulled his jacket closer around them.

"We should get back inside," he said.

"You'll stay?" She asked anxiously.

Zevran promised, "For now, yes."

He picked her up and carried her back into the house and to the kitchen. Tabris sat down, wrapping his jacket around her. Zevran heated a kettle on the stove. When it was ready, he poured it into a basin and knelt in front of her. He washed her feet in the warm water and dried them off with a towel. Before she rose, he kissed her bare leg, looking up into her eyes.

They both heard the front door open and they stood, flustered. 

"The bridal brunch," Tabris hissed. 

"Can we escape?" Zevran asked, nodding towards the window.

Tabris sighed, "No. I've got to go put on real clothes. Are you sober enough to deal with this?"

"Yes," Zevran lied. "I'm fine." 

***

Zevran, of course, was not fine. He hadn't slept more than an hour or two in the past day and a half, was moving towards a hangover, and had swung from leaving the woman he adored to confessing his affection for her and promising that he would stand by her side. This was enough for any man to wrap his head around. And now he was about to spend two hours surrounded by her very involved family and community, many of who were already suspicious about their relationship. 

Zevran managed to clean up and get a strong mug of tea before most of the guests arrived. He greeted the newlyweds and helped Cyrion serve the meal. Tabris managed to sneak in not much later. She looked somewhat disheveled, but only as if she hadn't slept well, not as if she had been running through the Alienage in near nothing and passionately kissing someone she was not even betrothed to.

The sentiment nearly made Zevran laugh. He had gotten used to Ferelden prudery, for the most part, but it seemed ridiculous that of all the things he could be concerned about right then, he was worried about what these people thought of the two of them.

Zevran managed to keep quiet and not spill what he was thinking as everyone ate together. He smiled across the table at Tabris, who was deep in conversation with the bride. Zevran didn't flirt with the people he normally did or gossip with the elderly ladies who loved him. He could focus on eating and looking at her, but that was about all he was capable of.

Finally when all the guests finally left, Zevran managed to get back to his room and flop onto his bed. He closed his eyes and fell almost immediately asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Zevran was expected back at work. He hadn't managed to see Tabris before he left and hoped she might come see him at lunch. They hadn't really had any time together besides a very brief dinner the night before with her father. Both of them had been too nervous to say anything and had gone to bed with only the briefest of goodnights. Tonight they would have to talk to Cyrion. Neither of them wanted to lie to him and the truth would come out soon enough.

Within walking in the door of the shop, however, Zevran realized he had been optimistic about having that much time.

Deidre called out, "There's the cad. Come here, boy."

Zevran came to the register to see both Deidre and Celia standing with their arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Heard all about your lover's quarrel, we did," Celia said, her eyes narrowing. "Poor Miss Tabris running out almost naked and you practically having your way with her in the alley. Indecent it is."

"Obscene," Deirdre agreed. "Heard it from Marge who heard it from Becca who-"

To be honest, Zevran zoned out for the next several names until Deidre returned to the matter at hand. "Mr. Tabris gives you a place to stay, finds you a job, and you go ahead and seduce his daughter. His only daughter. And you know all about the sort of mess she's been in before. You've made a real pig's ear of this, Zevran. If you want to keep working here, you'll have to do the right thing."

"The right thing?" Zevran asked in confusion.

They both exclaimed, "Marry her!" 

Zevran went pale. "It was only a kiss and we intended-"

"What is this 'we' business?" Celia asked. "This is between you and her father. You go and you ask his permission and when you announce your engagement to that poor thing, then you can come back to work."

Zevran's mouth went dry. "You'd fire me? For..."

"This is a family business," Deidre said softly. "We like you, Zevran, we both do."

Celia nodded in agreement. "But we'll lose customers with such a scandal."

The absurdity made Zevran nearly burst into laughter. He had been in threesomes on the regular since he was a teenager. He had been in a literal orgy before. He had been part of sexual acts that these biddies had probably never heard of. Besides that, he had literally killed people for a living for nearly two decades. This was the thing that was the last straw? _This?_

"Go talk to him before he hears it from someone else," Celia insisted. "Go on." 

Zevran left, spitting mad. He did love the strange eccentricities of elven culture he had missed growing up with the Crows. But the obsession with propriety was too much. Still, he cared about Cyrion and owed it to the man to talk to him. However, he imagined it was less a patriarchal get together and more an honest conversation between friends.

When he got to the Tabris household, Cyrion was fixing a wobbly chair. He looked up in surprise at the sight of him.

"Everything alright?" He asked.

Zevran pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Is your daughter here?"

"No, I sent her over to Lord Emile's place. He had forgotten how to do his cravat," Cyrion chuckled. "His father is out of town and he has been calling for me every minute of the day whenever something comes up. Aria was kind enough to go help him out. She's always been sweet with little ones. Sorry, are you looking for her?"

"No, actually, I wanted to speak to you," Zevran said nervously.

Cyrion frowned and put the chair over his knee. "Go on."

Zevran sat as far from him as he could. "I thought you should know...well..."

Cyrion smirked. "That Mr. Hooper saw the two of you kissing yesterday? Yes, I heard all about that from several different people. Though from the gossip it sounded as she was having your child out of wedlock and someone caught you fornicating in the bushes."

Zevran laughed anxiously, "Well..."

"Relax," Cyrion said kindly. "I know that a kiss is just a kiss and that you and Aria's business is not mine. But if you have come to me, then maybe there is something else you would like to say."

Zevran rubbed the back of his neck. "How does...how do I court her?"

Cyrion burst out laughing and Zevran explained quickly, "You are the only man I am close to here besides Soris and his marriage was arranged. How do I do this without people glaring at me and throwing turnips?" 

Cyrion tried to hold it in. "Well, courting is usually a long process. There are chaperoned dates, usually the parents meet. Usually the Elder of the community gives their blessing. It is uncommon, since most marriages of course are arranged between cities and communities." 

"And if it was in the middle of a Blight and the world could end tomorrow?" Zevran asked. "Are there still so many hoops to jump through?"

Cyrion put the chair back on the ground. "Zevran, you are not a Ferelden man and my daughter is not some shy teenager I need to protect from a suitor. I have seen the light return to her eyes since she has met you and I sense that you have found happiness as well. This is not a conversation you need to have with me. This is one you need to have with her."

"I do not want you to hate me," he admitted, "or to think I am ungrateful."

"I nearly lost my daughter," Cyrion said. "I could not hate any man who would make her smile again. Nor would I allow any man under my roof that I did not believe to have a good heart. You do not need my blessing, but you would have it. The rest is up to the two of you."

Zevran hesitated. "Would I offer a ring or..."

Cyrion's eyebrows jumped up and he let out a little "eek" sound that he tried to cover up. "Well, of course, if you wanted to, well, um, typically it's a prized possession of some sort. Doesn't have to be a, er, ring. I mean, I would never tell you that you should. There's no pressure."

Zevran smiled sheepishly. "Just curious, that's all."

"Right, of course. Good to know, just in case."  
"Right. Listen, I should probably-"

"Of course," Cyrion laughed nervously. "Chair won't fix itself."

"Do you need help?"

"No, no, you go do...whatever you wanted to do."

Zevran felt like his entire face had gone bright red as he sneaked out the front door. Had he just? Had Cyrion just?

"Zev?"

He looked up to see Shianni and Valora walking down the path towards him. He liked them both well enough but he did not have the stamina for dealing with more of her relatives. He fled the best he could through a side street and climbed over a fence into a neighbour's garden. He tiptoed through as best he could before flat out running towards the Market Square.


	9. Chapter 9

Tabris left the Palace District after a very long two hours showing a six year old how to tie the latest bows. She liked Emile, but she didn't have the same endless patience as her father. Cyrion had technically retired two years from his position at Lord Josiah's home but still often came in to help at more formal banquets or whenever Lord Emile needed a gentleman to escort him. Tabris had only been acquainted with the household just after her father's retirement but attempted to avoid the area after her experiences with Vaughan. She had never run into him but she always feared that she would.

She went into the Market Square to buy a few groceries before heading back home. Produce was sparse in the Alienage as so few things were trickling into elven vendors. Tabris felt guilty for the coin in her pocket, but she and Zevran had discussed long ago that they needed to be careful how quickly it was spent. People asked questions when seemingly poor people had suddenly gold to spare.

She was negotiating for some potatoes when she saw Zevran at a stall that sold luxuries from Orlais. She paid for her food quickly and went over to him. He nearly jumped when she put her hand on his arm.  
"What are you doing here?" She hissed. "Anyone could see you."

"I needed some space," he admitted, turning from the stall. "Take a walk with me?"

Tabris took his hand and they walked through the Chantry courtyard, blending in with the parishioners leaving worship. They made it to an old oak tree that several children were climbing on. There were enough parents gossiping and chatting that a young Elven couple was nothing to catch the eye.

Zevran began, "I am not sure how to say this so I will just try my best. I just spoke with your father. I wanted to with you, but I was...cornered by my employer."

Tabris said sympathetically, "It's fine, Zev. What did he say?"

"He seemed happy for us and said that it was up to us what happened next, despite Deidre demanding I make an honest woman of you immediately."

"I told you, she's never liked me," Tabris chuckled.

Zevran smiled nervously. "So..."

"So?" Tabris asked, trying to catch her breath.

"If we were in Antiva," he explained, "I would give you a token of my affection and if you accepted, you would be agreeing to our courtship. Then I must wait until you return the token to me as a symbol that what is yours is also mine. At that point, we would be considered wed. Many go to a Chantry to confirm it, but the little people save their coin and live together regardless." 

"And if I never gave it back?" Tabris asked.

"Then you are free to be courted by another, but I could not pursue another woman. It is something that Antivan men rarely practice and it is considered gauche to accept many admirers. But there it is. I am told that Ferelden elves have much more complicated courtship rituals."

"Love matches aren't very common," Tabris admitted. "Especially if people are from the same Alienage. They like to make it difficult to prove that it's worth narrowing in the bloodline."

"But we are not from the same Alienage," he pointed out.

"You essentially are now," she said.

"So what must I do?" 

Tabris asked, "Are you sure you want to do this? Yesterday..."

Zevran took her hands into his. "I know, but this is not yesterday. I was afraid. But you make me brave."

Tabris smiled sheepishly. "I...well, you would ask my father for permission, which he wouldn't allow you to since he thinks that tradition is awful. Then we would go on a series of chaperoned dates. You would then ask our Elder for permission and then ask me. I'm supposed to reject you twice before I actually say yes."

"Ferelden elves are true romantics."

Tabris laughed. "We usually think of community as being more important than individual happiness. It's not something I really hold close to heart, but you asked."

A child fell off the tree and started crying. Both of them snuck away while their mother tried to soothe them. They ended up in an alley walking back towards the house. Neither of them spoke but occasionally looked at the other and smiled. 

When they got close to the gates, Tabris put her hand out to stop him. 

"Hmm?"

She asked, "Do Antivans elope often then? If things are so uncomplicated."

"As I said, the little people do sometimes, but nobility never. Weddings are too important politically. Your people?"

"Only if you were drafted into an army or I was pregnant," she said. "It usually means things need to be done quickly in order to save face."

Zevran said softly, "I never expected to marry and have a family. I still do not think it is a wise idea and I would still warn you against being with me. But I want to be with you. If this is what it must be for me to live with you in your home, then I would do it. I do not mean to be impassionate; I just want you to be safe and happy. So tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"I think that may be the most unromantic proposal I have ever heard," she teased.

He grinned. "I am sure there are worse."

"After Nelaros, I never intended to get married," she admitted. "It's not something that meant a lot to me. So I know this isn't something either of us planned, but it might be the easiest way. But it doesn't feel right, does it? It's not you. It just feels..."

"Forced."

"Yeah," she agreed. 

"So what should we do?" Zevran asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I just...wish we could have some time alone. We're always surrounded by people back home. It's never just gotten to be the two of us."

"Then let's go away," Zevran suggested. 

"Where?" She asked with a laugh. "Where could we go where someone won't recognize you or start lecturing me about my life choices?"

Zevran smiled. "I have an idea."

***

Tabris hadn't really needed the boost, but he liked having his hands on her thighs. She unlocked the window and helped him climb inside her old apartment. 

It was empty but for the standard furniture the landlord lent his tenants. Zevran was half expecting to see bloodstains, but realized that Tabris would have scrubbed her place clean to get her deposit back.

"You sure no one's going to come in here?" Tabris asked.

"I may have rented the room already."

"Then why did we break in?" 

"So you could better appreciate how difficult it was to climb that with several broken ribs," he teased. 

Tabris gave him a playful shove. "Then I imagine you have some food in here?"

Zevran chuckled. "Of course, darling. I know how irritable you get when you're hungry. I only have a few apples and some bread and cheese. It's not much."

"It's perfect," she said, sitting down on the bed.

He made a plate for them and brought it over. They sat facing the other and ate their lunch without speaking. 

"This is so uncomfortable," she finally laughed. 

Zevran took a deep breath. "I'm glad I am not the only one who thinks so."  
He took her hand and she smiled. She put the rest of the food on the floor and brought her legs up onto the bed. He leaned against the headboard and she snuggled into his arms. 

"I have something for you," Zevran said, reaching into his pocket.

He put something light in her hand and she looked in surprise at a single jeweled earring. She turned it over to examine it.

"I took it from the first man I killed," Zevran said. "It was beautiful and I was a boy who had no jewels or finery of my own. I have always kept it as a promise to myself that one day I would have such luxury and refinement."

"Then you ended up living in a slum and the assistant to some very nosy women," Tabris joked. "It is lovely though."

"I said to you before how Antivans express their intentions. This is the most precious thing I own in this world and I would like to give it to you." 

Tabris asked softly, "And I refuse?"

Zevran's heart started racing. "Then we go back to as we were."

"You won't leave?"

He promised, "No matter your answer, I will remain here as your friend."

"Do I have to decide now?"

He took a shaky breath. "No. In Antiva, yes, but you are not Antivan."

Tabris turned to face him and straddled his hips. She kissed him tenderly and he brushed his fingers through her hair. He kissed her back hungrily and grinded against him, her hips rolling just enough to stir him. 

She pulled back, pressing her hand against his chest. 

She stuttered, "I...I..."

Zevran assured, "It's okay, mi amora. Not now." 

She took a deep breath before kissing him again. He settled his hands on her hips, moving with her. He was growing hard and his desire grew hot. He kissed her until he could barely breathe, desperate for the taste of her. 

She panted, "We should stop."

Zevran was reluctant to agree but he did. She rose and smoothed out her clothes. The earring tumbled onto the floor. Zevran reached to pick it up and put it on the kitchen table.

He waited for her reaction, his blood pounding in his ears. When she did not speak, Zevran smiled sadly.

"I understand. I will not ask again," he said. "I will leave it be. It is probably better this way. I meant what I said. I will stay."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears rolling down her face.

He brought her into his arms. "It's all right. You don't need to say anything."

She ran from the room and Zevran slowly sat on the bed. He held the earring in his hand tightly and closed his eyes. Had he really been such a fool?


	10. Chapter 10

Tabris didn't think. She just ran to Shianni's new home and went through the front without knocking. Her cousin immediately stood up from her sewing and hugged her. Tabris burst into tears and Shianni listened, rubbing her back soothingly.

When Tabris finally finished, Shianni asked, "Do you love him?"

Tabris didn't know how to answer. Of course she did. He was her best friend. He was handsome and funny and surprisingly sweet. He understood her better than anyone else ever could. She missed him whenever he wasn't there and when he was beside her she wanted to hold his hand or kiss him or have any other excuse to touch him. She wanted to spend her life with him. So yes, she loved him, but there was more to a marriage than just that.

Zevran had asked her because he felt trapped. He knew it was the only way so he did it. Tabris had been willing to marry a complete stranger, but she couldn't marry a man who loved her, but not enough. 

Shianni asked softly, "And it has nothing to do with sex?"

"What if that's all he wants?" Tabris asked. "What if..."

"Cousin," Shianni assured her. "He loves you. If he wanted sex, he could have gone to a brothel. He wants you. If you're scared, talk to him. Aria...you know just as well as I do that life in our world can be short and painful. With the Blight, maybe more so. If you two only have a little time, don't waste it."

"What if-"

"Aria, don't. Don't second-guess yourself. Do what feels right to you."

Tabris suddenly knew what she had to do. She kissed her cousin goodbye and headed back to the apartment. She climbed up the side to find Zevran moving in the first of his things. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"There's something I need to know," she panted. "Before I say yes."

"And what is that?" He asked in confusion.

She kissed him hard and he groaned into her mouth. He let her led them to the bed, matching her passion with his own. They hit the mattress and Zevran rolled her beneath him. 

He asked, "Are you sure you want this?"

Tabris said, "I need to know if I can do this. So if you want to, then..."

Zevran kissed her tenderly, his hands brushing against her ears. 

"More than anything," he murmured. "I won't hurt you."

"I was scared," she admitted.

"I know," he said softly, "and we can stop whenever you want."

"Don't be that gentle," she protested. "This is easier if you don't make a big deal out of it. Please, just treat this like it wasn't special."

Zevran grinned. "Every encounter with a beautiful woman is special. But if you wish to see my regular routine, I can indulge you."

He slowly slid her skirt down her legs and kissed her bare skin. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for his touch. His mouth was warm against her thighs and his tongue teased her. Her body responded, her belly fluttering in anticipation.

She couldn't explain what happened next. He was kissing her sex, his tongue circling around the little bump she had brushed against once or twice when exploring herself. She opened her legs wider, letting him delve deeper into her. Everything she expected to hurt felt warm and pleasant. She sighed in relief.

She could almost feel Zevran smiling against her and she smiled in return. She risked opening her eyes and he stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, beaming.

"Should I keep going?" He asked.

She nodded, blushing.

He returned to his actions, his thumbs now massaging her outer lips and his tongue now on the edge of her very core. She started to tense and he pulled away slightly, continuing to kiss and suck the rest of her. She arched her back and he slipped his tongue into her. She cried out and he sighed happily.

The pleasure grew almost tight between her thighs and she grinded herself against him. He moved his mouth to that swollen nub and sucked, replacing his tongue with a finger. She shuddered, the pressure building in her sex just as the heat threatened to overwhelm her.

And then it hit her.

She groaned, riding his face until the crest of pleasure fully broke. He pulled away and wiped his mouth on his shirt. He grinned at her.

"More?" He asked smugly.

She pleaded, "Yes."

He rose and took off his shirt. She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. He knelt before her and hooked her legs over his shoulders. His mouth was on her again and she arched her back, desperate to get closer. She took off her own shirt, leaving on her shift. 

Zevran retreated, kissing her thigh. "Sorry, mi amora, my jaw is getting tired. Maybe you would be interested in experiencing some of my other skills?"

He took off his trousers and underclothes, tossing them to the side. The sight of him hard made her anxious, but she trusted him and she wanted this. So badly she wanted this to work.

He rolled her underneath him and kissed her softly. Heat radiated from him and she gave herself over to his embrace. Her world smelled of him, tasted of him. His arms around her comforting. She kissed him, forgetting everything else but the two of them in that little room.

He slid a pillow underneath her hips and kissed her neck. "May I?"

Tabris took a deep breath. "Please."

Zevran took himself in hand and she felt the tip of him against her. She took another deep breath as he slowly entered her, his other hand linked with hers. His eyes never left hers and they both smiled nervously.

Once he was seated in her, he cradled her in his arms and nuzzled into her. She ran her hands through his hair and drew him in for a kiss.

He moved slowly at first, focusing just as much on cuddling with her as he was his thrusts. She brushed away the strands of hair falling into his face. He looked into her eyes and she felt so overwhelmed by his love that she nearly started crying.

He quickened his rhythm and she moved with him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He moaned in her ear, gripping the bed beside her. Her body clenched around his, desperate for him. She could almost feel his heartbeat beside her own. His thrusts grew harder and her belly grew tight again. Her peak was almost gentle, rolling with her through the pleasure, rising and falling like a deep breath.

Zevran kissed her and withdrew. He thrust himself into his own fist a few times before reaching his own climax on the threadbare sheet.

He looked up at her, waiting for her verdict. Tabris laughed and cried and he brought her into his arms. She kissed him tenderly.

She whispered, "I didn't know...it's so different."

She started crying in earnest and he cupped her face in his hands.

"I love you," he confessed. "I will never hurt you. I will stand by you through all things. I will protect your life with my own. Will you say yes now?" 

Tabris bit her lip and nodded, wiping away her tears. "Yes."

She kissed him and pressed her forehead against his. "I love you, Zev. I didn't think I could go through any of this. But it's you. I can do anything with you beside me. I don't know if I can give you anything in return."

Zevran murmured, "I didn't want to live when I met you. I had gone to meet my death. You have given me everything. Everything I have in this world is because of you. You have given me peace."

"Do you still have the earring?" She asked.

Zevran reached out to the bedside table and opened a drawer. He fumbled around and picked it up. He put it in her hand.

"I accept," she said, "and now I give it back to you. What is mine is yours."

Zevran grinned. "Truly?"

"Truly," she agreed.

"Will you want a wedding?" He asked. "Because it would not be wise for us to register at a Chantry, but I want you to be happy."

"I have an idea."

***

It was just before sunset and the candles were being lit throughout the house of the hahren Valendrian. The Elder waited until his young sons left the room and closed the doors of the living room to all but the bride and groom.

Valendrian laid his hand over both of theirs. "This is what you want?" 

Zevran looked over to his future wife, who looked radiant in her best dress and her hair pulled back in a simple bun. She in return beamed at him, the candlelight glinting off the jeweled earring on her necklace.

"Yes," Tabris said excitedly.

Zevran agreed, "Yes."

"It can never be a legal marriage without the Chantry involved," Valendrian reminded. "I do not have that ability."

"This is all we need," Tabris said.

Valendrian said softly, "Then this will remain between the three of us for now, until a better day when you can solemnize this before the Maker and the Law. Though it seems the both of you would have made these vows to each other regardless of my presence or blessing."

Valendrian continued, "Let your love be like a seed in the fertile earth. Nurture it and it will grow and grow. Let it build roots and grow sturdy enough to survive any storm. Let it give you both peace and strength. May your family grow from your love and let all who come into your life benefit from it. Nourish your love and all will benefit from it. If you promise to care for each other this deeply and this fully, say that you do so."

"I do," Tabris promised.

Zevran couldn't stop smiling. "I do too."

"Then that is all I can offer you as you begin your life together. I will witness your commitment if it is ever questioned and I will stand by you both. Live as husband and wife as any other would, for in your own hearts you are as bound as any other. I wish you happiness, comfort, and health."

"Thank you," Tabris said.

Valendrian said quietly, "Be safe, both of you. I will listen and warn you if I hear anything of strangers in our midst. You are one of us, Zevran. We will keep you safe."


	11. Chapter 11

They told Cyrion the truth about the nature of their elopement and he understood and promised to keep it secret. Everyone else believed that they had snuck off to a Chantry to be married in between services, too excited to wait for anyone else. A few suspected it was just for propriety's sake, but most of those people had not witnessed the newlyweds together.

They officially moved into the Tabris household together, taking over the one bedroom and leaving the other free for now. Cyrion hadn't said that he was glad they were staying, but he seemed very happy they were. Zevran preferred it anyways. He didn't want his wife to be alone for long periods of time, especially as the nightmares grew worse. 

They were hazy, foggy things, but the sentiment was clear every time he woke up in cold sweat. The Crows would find them and they would kill them. He knew the methods, he had seen them used. It would be slow and it would be excruciating. 

If he gasped or whined, Tabris usually woke and comforted him, pulling him into her arms and rubbing his back. But he tried to let her sleep. There was a flu going around and he wanted to make sure she was healthy enough in case she was exposed. 

He started napping in the afternoon when he came home from work, trying to get back some of the sleep he missed each night. As winter was settling around them, he usually slept near the fireplace as he wouldn't have Tabris to keep him warm. Every evening for dinner she would wake him up with a soft kiss and he would smile and rise to meet her.

But one afternoon he didn't wake up.

***

Tabris helped her shivering husband into the bed. He seemed unconscious, but she suspected he was in the midst of a fever dream. She bundled him up in whatever blankets she could and started the kettle to fill hot water bottles. 

She called out to her father for help and came into the kitchen to see him gripping the table, trying not to pass out. She helped him to into his bed and did the best she could to make him comfortable.

Tabris ran outside to get Healer Falen but only found others racing out into the night with lanterns. There was someone screaming, others weeping openly in the streets. She went to the healer's home, but there were nearly a hundred people waiting in line in front of his door, pleading for help.

Tabris pushed her way to the front and he let her in. 

"How many?" She asked breathlessly.

"Twelve dead today," he said tiredly. "At least fifty sick."

"How is this happening so quickly?" She demanded.

"It hasn't been fast," he explained. "It was incubating. The virus was dormant in Sern and a lot of people were exposed to him at the wedding. It's been building up in this past week. People though they were feeling under the weather but were slowly growing sicker and sicker. Now it's strong enough and our people aren't ready."

"What can I do?" She asked.

"My friend, there is little any of us can do. I have no medicine to combat this."

"Then I'll bring it in," she promised. "What do we need?"

"Aria, you do not understand me," he said softly. "There is no medicine. I cannot stop a viral infection from spreading without powerful magic. The Circle of Magi has been annulled and there are none left in this country. It is something that our people will either adapt to or it will kill them. We only keep them alive and pray that their bodies can fight back. They will not understand that when I tell them, so we will just have to try our best. You have always helped me in the past when I've needed it, even when you were a young girl. You have always tried to protect those you love. Child, if you wish to help me this time, you will only help the ill to their deaths. I do not know if even I will survive or you."

"We're damned," she whispered.

Falen closed his eyes. "Go home and take care of your family. Bring the ill comfort. If you are still well, then you have a chance. Use it to save what lives you can."

Tabris kissed his cheek and left, heading back home. Entering the door, she heard someone vomiting and went to find her father near the water closet. She helped him back to bed and told him to rest. She moved Zevran in beside him, her husband still unresponsive. 

She kissed Cyrion's forehead and promised, "I'll be right back."

She went first to Soris' household where both he and his pregnant wife lay in bed feverish. Valora's heart rate was low and Tabris moved them both back to her house and into Shianni's old bed. Once they were settled, she checked on the other two and headed back out to try to find her other cousin.

Tabris found Shianni on the doorstep of her apartment building. She looked pale as ash and couldn't speak. She held her husband's wedding ring in her hand.

Tabris brought her too back to the house. Shianni laid down in Tabris' room and fell asleep. She would wake a few hours later for only a few moments and then return to bed after a silent meal of dry toast and water. 

Tabris worked the rest of the night attending to every member of the family, checking breathing, heart rates. Making sure everyone was warm and hydrated and as comfortable as possible. Exhausted, she crashed on the couch and tried to get a few moments of rest.

She pulled Zevran's blanket around her, his smell comforting to her. She didn't sleep, but she closed her eyes for a while and hoped it would be enough. 

***

Tabris woke to Shianni shaking her shoulders. She blinked blearily as her cousin tried to talk to her.

"What's going on?" Tabris managed to ask.

"Zevran can't breathe."

Tabris ran to her father's room where Zevran was laying on his back, gulping and wheezing. She helped him onto his side and he vomited. She rubbed his back and he shuddered, shaking. She kissed his forehead and propped him up to lie on his side. She hoped for a thank you or a joke, but Zevran was still deep in his fever.

Cyrion managed to get into the living room and rested by the fire as Shianni encouraged him to eat. Tabris remained with Zevran lying beside him as he tossed and turned, whimpering. She held him as close to her as she dared.

"Wake up," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "Just show me that you're going to be okay. Please."

Zevran remained as he was. If he were the only one sick in her house, she would have never left his side. But Shianni couldn't handle three other patients, not while she was silently mourning her own loss. She just had to have faith.


	12. Chapter 12

By the evening, news had come to them that Master Falen was dying and that a group of foreign healers had set up a hospice in an abandoned home. They were promising to save anyone who came to them and already one person claimed to be cured of the plague instantly.

Tabris went to Falen's home and sat with him in his final moments. 

"Are you a witch?" He whispered. "Everyone is sick but you. Even others have trouble breathing or a fever, but you look as healthy as ever. If you are a witch, I will not tell anyone. Just help them. Dear Maker, help them."

When he passed, she helped his son wash the body as he was too weak to do it alone. She made sure he had something to eat and helped him into bed before she returned to her own home.

Valora was awake by then and the colour was returning to her face. She was too weak to walk and they had set up a place for her to rest by the fire and making sure she ate to encourage her healing. 

Tabris checked in on Zevran but there was no change.

***

More elves went to the hospice, but there were no more miracles as the first day. Tabris grew desperate and asked her cousin to help bring Zevran to the healers.

"None of them are coming out," Shianni warned. "You know that. Either they're dying at the hospice or something is very wrong. Your father is getting better every day and Soris and Valora are stable. They'll be okay."

"I can't help Zevran and he's going to die if he doesn't get help."

"Aria...he's going to die either way."

Without thinking, Tabris slapped her across the face. She immediately apologized but Shianni just glared at her.

"Do what you want," she said quietly, "but I'm not risking anyone else."

Tabris went back to her room where Zevran still slept. His fever was lessened, but she didn't know if he was feeling better or if his body was giving in. She stroked his back and Zevran's lips parted briefly. She helped him drink a little water and she thought she saw him smile before falling asleep again.

Tabris murmured, "I believe in you, Zev. You'll make it through this."

***

The next day, the screenings started. A mob of elves went home to home, forcing the sick to go to the hospice to avoid spreading the illness further. Tabris and Shianni physically fought off those who came for their family, but neither was strong enough or willing to seriously injure a neighbour. 

Fortunately for them, they were not the only ones suspicious of the hospice and the elven women would soon find allies. 

***

Zevran opened his eyes and looked around the room. There were a dozen others on cots around him, all looking just as ill. He heard a scream and saw someone dragged into another room and he heard a crack of a whip.

He couldn't remember how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered clearly was walking home from work. He was hungry and every muscle hurt. He tried to sit up slowly, but lay down when he heard someone coming. He closed his eyes and just listened.

"Next boat's here. You've got any others ready?"

"Only a half dozen in the back. Should be getting more in this afternoon. A lot of people are forcing the sick into quarantine now. We'll have processed most of them in the next couple of days."

Zevran tried to understand what he was hearing. He had been sick and he was surrounded by sick people. And they were being transported. Processed. That sounded like merchandise...and then he clued in to the fact that he wasn't hearing Common Ferelden or even Antivan. He was hearing Tevene. 

Zevran's heart nearly stopped. They were slavers. 

He looked around, but he saw quickly there was not much he could do. He was still weak and there were more of them than he could take on. The best thing to do for now was to wait and listen. He closed his eyes again, pretending to be asleep. 

"But what about that Grey Warden lurking about? He's got that girl with him, the one with the red hair. Should we do anything about him?"

"Leave it. We've got all the legal right to be here. If he wants to do something about it, he'll have to go turn himself to the proper authorities."

Zevran tried not to sigh, but it was hard not to. Of course. The only chance of his life being saved was from the last person he had tried to kill as a Crow. This was not looking out to be a good thing for him.

Someone grabbed him and forced him to his feet. Zevran tried to fight back, but his hands were quickly bound and he was tossed in a cage with a dozen others. He sat down, still woozy. 

This looked like even less of a good thing. 

***

When the Warden Alistair showed up, Tabris knew Shianni's instincts were right. Something was very wrong. Grey Wardens were never a good sign, after all. She offered to tag along after their initial investigation of the hospice was thwarted. She was better at picking locks than the Warden's bard so she helped them break in through the back. 

She could never have expected slavers. How could anyone think of it in Ferelden? And those pretending to heal the sick...maybe even those causing the illness in the first place...it was too much. She just needed to find Zevran and fast. 

***

Zevran saw only the end of the fight, hearing most of it ringing through the hall. The others stood up, looking to see who was coming. 

Some men might have been surprised to see their bloodied, war stained wife stepping over their captor's body, but not Zevran. 

Tabris ran to his cage, picking the lock. She helped the others out, finally reaching Zevran. The Warden and his companions searched the clothes of the slavers, looking for clues.

Zevran said, "One of them said they had proper documentation. Look for a letter or paper or something like that." 

The Warden looked at him, clearly puzzled. "Do we know each other?"

Zevran groaned, "Yes, unfortunately."

"Leilana, isn't this that elf that attacked us?"

"I think so, love. Was he one of the slavers?"

Tabris protested, "No, no, this is my husband."

Zevran smiled nervously. "Well...this is awkward."

Tabris helped Zevran to his feet and Alistair cleared his throat. "Well, thank you for your assistance Miss Tabris. The Grey Wardens thank you for your service."

Alistair and his companions ran off and Tabris hugged Zevran tightly.

"You okay?" She asked.

He nuzzled into her. "You are a force of nature, my love."

She kissed him softly. "Let's go home." 

***

The Alienage was quiet after then. People kept to themselves, as if trying to forget the terror they had just gone through. It didn't bother Tabris. Zevran was safe and healthy and all her family had managed to not be captured by slavers. Knowing that the Warden was here in this city put everything into perspective.

The Blight was nearly here. Whatever happened next, she might not get much time left with Zevran. She didn't want to waste it with other people. 

***

Zevran woke to screaming. He jumped out of bed and dressed quickly, chasing after his wife as she ran out into the streets. He stood behind her and she gasped. Not thirty feet from their house was a genlock. And there were more behind it.

Both ran back into the house, grabbing their weapons and calling for others to wake up and get ready to flee.  
Zevran had been in battles. Not many and he only had bit parts. But now he was fighting for everything he loved and he knew he was going to lose. 

The great tree took fire and the Tabris clan looked in horror. Shianni kept up her defense on the rooftops, barking out her orders. The darkspawn were approaching and in greater numbers. They were about to be overwhelmed.

"You need to go," Zevran insisted. "Get them out of here."

"I'm not leaving you," Tabris protested.

They both froze, seeing the great ogre marching forward. The creature turned to them and Zevran ran forward.

"Hey, over here!" He called. "Yes, you, you ugly son of a whore! You want a fight? Come fight me!"

Zevran stabbed it straight through the kneecap and it roared, whipping around to grab him. Zevran rolled out of the way, but the creature grabbed his ankle, lifted him into the air and slammed him down hard on the ground. 

All went silent in that moment. Zevran turned to see his wife, her father dragging her away. He could see her scream his name, but he couldn't hear her voice. And he so wanted to hear her voice, in that last moment of his life.

He fell to the ground and the darkspawn took his dagger from him as if he were already dead. Zevran managed to get onto his back, hoping to see the first of the stars, but all he could see was smoke.

***

Zevran could feel the rocking of a boat beneath him, as if he were in a canoe or some other small craft. His arms were tied across his chest and he could feel something heavy across his eyes. He had a sudden fear that he was about to be buried alive at sea and he tried to fight his way free. He screamed but a hand clamped over his mouth. He tried to bite it but found his jaw was broken.

He could feel someone try to speak to him, felt their breath in his ear, but he still could not hear. He whimpered, pleading behind the hand to let him free. 

He faded in and out for a long time. He had no way of knowing. 

Zevran felt himself lifted and he cried again for help. A hand touched his and he grimaced from the pain. He understood enough and he kept quiet.

It seemed an eternity before he was placed back on the ground. Gentle hands unraveled the bandages around his eyes, keeping one still close with a padded cloth. He blinked and saw the face of his wife.

He smiled, even though it killed him to do it. He tried to gesture to his ears, but she shook her head. She said something, but he couldn't hear her.

Zevran looked at her with his limited vision and his heart eased. He leaned into her touch as she redid the bandage, not wanting to be parted from her.

Whenever he felt someone touch him, position him, move him, he knew she was there and he was no longer afraid.

***

If you asked her, Tabris would have been barely able to tell you about those three weeks. She had run back into a war zone, abandoning her family to attempt to recover her husband's body. When she felt his heart was still beating, she did everything she could to patch him up and carry him to the harbour. She managed to steal a small fishing boat and rowed out, not knowing where to go.

In perhaps the first lucky moment of her life, the Siren's Call was trawling the harbour, looking for survivors. Captain Isabela was delighted to take in her old friend and set them up in her own cabin while Zevran fought for his life.

His hearing came back first and then his eye healed, never quite as clear as before. His face was badly scarred, but it was relatively healthy. His bones had mended, but his left side would never been as strong as it once had. 

They spent the next few years living as crewmen on Isabela's ship while the Orlesian Wardens attempted to quell the Blight. When it was finally over, they went back to Denerim but the Alienage was completely abandoned. Neither of them knew what to do next. So they started to rebuild. They fixed houses together, replanted gardens, dug wells. And people came in time, finding sanctuary after such strife. 

Little had survived from the failed Battle of Denerim, but near where Zevran had almost lost his life, he found a rosehip. He cared for it and tended it just outside the Tabris family home. The rosebush that grew was unusually strong and vibrant, lasting longer than anything else that grew in the Alienage. 

And in the centre of the Alienage, a small shoot of a tree was planted. For the first few years it was guarded almost daily until it grew enough to stand tall against winds and rains. And it rained, it rained for weeks after they returned to Denerim, as if the Maker was washing away all that had tainted it, until all that was left was the promise of rebirth.


End file.
